Avenge or Revenge?
by Mother of Pearl Fetish
Summary: Combination story of the Sub Club and Kill the Bitch Troll. I had a Kill the Bitch Troll story outlined, but was never happy with how the plot progressed, I've combined the two. Warning: I kill the Bitch Troll off before the end of Book Two of FSOG. I do not own the characters. They belong to E.L. James.


Avenge or Revenge?

This began as a series of chapters about the Sub Club; but this particular sub acquired a killing hatred of the Bitch Troll. Since I had a _Kill the Bitch Troll_ story outlined, but was never happy with how the plot progressed, I've combined the two. Warning: I kill the Bitch Troll off before the end of Book Two of FSOG. I do not own the characters Mr. Grey, Mrs. Jones, Taylor, Barney or Elena Lincoln. They belong to E.L. James. However, I feel I share a deep abiding hate for the Bitch Troll with the rest of the 50 Shades universe. I hope you enjoy.

Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.  
**Samuel Johnson**

March, 2002

"Jake, I'll do the books after I get out of classes. I'll see you before five." Sabine finished her cool down from her run around the upper tier of the gym. She headed for the showers. Her brunette ponytail and cobalt blue shorts and t-shirt stood out against the black, white and grey of the gym decor.

"Thanks Sabine!" Jake called out to her.

"Who is the pretty girl," Declan Locke asked while Jake started him on his third set of weight lifting reps. He tried not to stare at the petite brunette who just ran down the stairs to the women's locker room; especially if she belonged to Jake. A man could get decked by lusting after a woman who was taken.

"Sabine Falco; friend of the family. She's handled the gym accounts with her grandmother for two years now. She wants to take classes to become a forensic accountant for the police department or a federal agency. Her fee is an annual gym membership. We think she's brilliant. She understands more about tax law than any accountant we've had. Plus, she talked us into opening the gym on Sunday afternoon to the Boys and Girls Club down the street. It's a charitable write off for the gym which helped with our taxes. She arranged a couple of block parties with us as the anchor for them which increased our visibility in the neighborhood."

"Do you think she would be interested in another client? I really hate the accounting service Aedan and I use." Declan asked.

"Come back after five, I'll introduce you. If you want to make points, bring a large thin crust double Italian sausage pizza and a case of Diet Pepsi." Jake smiled.

It was Wednesday, Declan's light night. When he left here, he could check in at the club, take a shower, change clothes, order a pizza and be back before five to meet Sabine. He tried to convince himself he was coming back to see Sabine because they needed a new accounting firm. They had been using the same firm for years. Since _Locke and Keyes_ morphed from an underground club to a private BDSM club…the accountants were too inquisitive for his comfort level. Declan wondered if Sabine would be interested in taking on a new client.

Seeing Sabine made Declan contemplate his life. He knew it was the cobalt blue of her gym clothes. His deceased wife, Ashleigh, loved to wear cobalt blue. It went so well with her ginger hair, blue eyes and pale skin. His friendship was rock solid with his business partner Aedan. Aedan's wife Jessie took pity on him and tried to introduce him to a plethora of women after his Domme, Isabella, left for New York. Declan knew he was a good looking, tall, physically fit man. Being Black Irish with dark curls, green eyes, and pale skin didn't hurt him when it came to finding women. He worked hard to stay physically fit; especially the first year after Ashleigh died. The gym, the church and the club were his life. He took a month break to take Ashleigh's ashes back to her family in Ireland. His family was gone, except for a few distant cousins. He didn't think twice about returning to his life in Seattle.

There were plenty of woman at the club who never looked past the face to get to know the man. He loved film noir, hiking, American muscle cars, and trips to Napa Valley. He also liked petite brunettes. He liked kissing a woman until her lips were bruised, swollen and tender, and then like having her on her knees with those lips wrapped around his engorged cock.

When Isabella left, he finished his Dom training. If he was desperate for female companionship; there were some beauties at the club who would be glad to be sans panties and on their knees getting submissive training and a good fucking in the process. He didn't like one-night stands, and had just finished submissive training a young woman named Fallon who decided she liked threesomes better than him once their contract was finished. Now, after seeing Sabine…he was not in a hurry to find another submissive.

October, 2002

Sabine's POV

"We need a waitress on Saturday night; our usual waitress has a family thing she can't avoid. It's companion night; no admittance without a partner or two. No single guys to hit on you," Declan asked Sabine. "I know it's not what you normally do, but can you fill in? Work eight to two, a hundred under the table for wages and your tips are all yours. First floor serves food and drink so you can waitress at 18 in there. You have to be 21 to work the second floor lounge or private suites."

"I'm not wearing the standard waitress costume I've seen your waitresses not wear," I retorted, a little uneasy about the request. "I'll wear a short black cocktail dress with stockings and pumps but no lingerie or skyscraper heels." _My inner tramp is sorting through my closet in anticipation of the evening._

"Acceptable. There are rules – there are always rules," he chuckles. "No one touches you without permission. If someone makes you feel uncomfortable through comments or conversation, tell them 'yellow'. It's a verbal smack down that should make them behave themselves. If anyone attempts inappropriate touching, just yell 'Red' and Aedan, a guard or I will come running."

"Don't worry, if someone behaves inappropriately, I'll bean them with the hostess tray before you or Aedan have the chance to beat them bloody."

"Just remember to address me as _Sir_ when you give me orders at the bar. It will keep people from inquiring too much."

"I can do that. Now, _Sir_, if you will sign off on your deposit slip, I'm out of here and on my way to the bank." Sabine closed out the computer and packed up her tote.

"No time for dinner tonight?" Declan asked casually. "After you do the deposit, we can stop at that little barbeque place by the bank."

"Thanks for the offer, but I need to study for finals, check in at the office, check the mail, file, answer emails …" my voice faded as I looked at my to-do list and my schedule on my phone.

"Come on," he grabbed my jacket from behind the door. "You need to be fed before you can face that to-do list. Otherwise, you will forget to eat. You need protein to feed those muscles and keep them healthy."

"Thanks," I dropped the bank bag in my tote. I guess I was getting dinner after all because it sounded like Declan didn't take no for an answer. It wasn't that I didn't want to have dinner with him; it was that I was attracted to my client, which was _big no rule #1_. Plus, Declan is twenty-six and I'm almost nineteen.

_And a virgin, my inner Catholic school girl concedes. _

I've seen the way women look at him. There's no way my hot, _I'm trying to think of him as a brother_, client is interested in a math geek like me.

I could use the income from a six-hour waitress gig. I'm renovating the office and the apartment above it. This gig might pay for a new big screen TV and surround sound system, but I'm not sure I would feel comfortable at _Locke and Keyes_ underground club after dark. I'm always here by four each Monday, Wednesday and Friday; departing before six. Declan usually buys me dinner on Wednesdays because it's a light night for him. I know the owners Declan, Aedan and Jessie, and the staff. The staff I have the most interaction with is the security guards. Mondays after a big weekend event, one of the guards takes me to the bank and then brings me back to the club.

"You should put your purse strap over your head and position your purse across your body under your jacket and zip it closed. Tuck your braid into your jacket," Declan said after he helped me put on my jacket. "And splay your keys between your fingers." He took my keys and demonstrated what he meant. "You won't get mugged for your purse if the strap isn't out for someone to grab it. Tucking your braid keeps them from attempting to grab it to restrain you. Splaying your keys allows you to use them as a weapon if someone decides to attack. We're not in the best neighborhood; someone should walk you to your car each night, even if it is daylight out.

"How would they grab my braid to restrain me?" I asked.

"Permission to demonstrate?" Declan asked.

I nodded, "Sure, if this lesson is to keep me safe."

"Turn around." He quietly stepped up behind me, and in less than two seconds had swished my braid away from my back and wrapped it around his hand a few times before pulling me against him, pulling my head back, exposing my neck. "If I were a vampire," he whispered in my ear, "your jugular would be so vulnerable right now." He nipped my shoulder to prove his point. His other hand slid around my waist and held on hard. "In real life; I could pick you up right now, carry you off and have my wicked way with you. Start taking self-defense classes at the gym…understand?"

"Understood," I am trying to breathe but my heart is pounding out of my chest and the blood is rushing through my veins.

_Wicked way…my inner tramp is panting_.

_Breathe!…my inner Catholic school girl yells._

He unwrapped my braid from his hand and tucked it inside my jacket. "So…lesson learned?"

"Lesson learned." I said quietly, turning to pick up my tote. I didn't want him to see that I was trembling from the brief encounter.

"I'll drive," Declan offered, and held the office door open for me. He opened the car door for me. Before I could start asking questions, Declan put a CD into the deck.

"Who is this?" I was impressed with the traditional Irish music.

"Dublin 4; they are from Van Nuys. Aedan and Jessie are taking a long weekend next month and going to California. It's a big family weekend for her. Someone's birthday, someone's wedding, someone's something. I guess Dublin 4 is playing at one of the events."

He opened my car door at the bank. He walked me to the depository at the bank. He opened my car door after I made the deposit at the bank.

He opened my car door at the restaurant. He opened the door at the restaurant. He helped me take off my jacket. He held my chair out for me at the restaurant. He ordered for us at the restaurant.

I waited until the waiter moved off before I began asking questions. "Declan, I'm aware _Locke and Keyes_ is a private BDSM club. I am your CPA; I process membership payments. I have questions."

"About the club or about the lifestyle?" He looked blandly at me; not revealing anything.

"I'm not sure." I admit.

"You know _Locke and Keyes_ is a private BDSM club that started out as an underground club for college kids. You are our accountant and do the books three afternoons a week; departing before six." Declan appraised her, noting the blush spreading across her cheeks. "You aren't 21 yet so it is not necessary to introduce you to other aspects of the business. If you are willing to work part-time, as needed, as a waitress; you need to research. Just Google any questions or topics. I won't mind answering any questions you have when you understand some of the basics."

He paid for dinner. He held my jacket for me…and gave my hair a playful tug before he tucked it inside my jacket. He opened the door to the restaurant. He held my elbow on the way to the car. He opened the car door. He took me back to the club and opened my car door. He walked me to my car and opened my car door. Once I was in and locked the door, he walked over to the front door of the club and watched me depart the parking lot. _All the way home my inner tramp whined about Declan's mixed signals. I didn't know what to tell her. Psychology of the human male was never taught at Seattle Prep_.

"Not just NO but OH HELL NO!" Declan roared at me as I walked out of the women's locker room into the front office. "Fix this! And fix that just-been-fucked hair!" He snapped at Jessie.

"Ho, ho, ho – Green Giant!" Jessie laughed and collapsed on the couch in the office.

"WTF Jessie?" I'm wearing a short black dress, high-necked lace over a black fabric sweetheart under bodice, stockings and black suede pumps. I'm wearing black pearl earrings and a black Lucite bracelet. My hair was in a messy braid. I thought I looked hot.

"If you didn't interpret that…Green as in green-eyed-monster; giant as in Declan's six foot six. Everything's fine about your dress except that it's about four inches too short for Declan's comfort level. I concede the braid is a little messier than you normally wear. I don't know the issue with it."

"Declan Locke deciding what I can and cannot wear is beyond my comfort level! I brought three other dresses. Pick one that's _appropriate_ or I'm going home and studying; leaving _Locke and Keyes_ short-staffed."

"This one," Jessie picked a black sequin v-neck dress with long sleeves. It ended three inches above my knee. I threw it in the garment bag at the last minute, and now I regretted my decision.

"I don't know why I brought that one," I grumbled. "If there are a lot of people; I'm going to melt in it…and what's wrong with my hair?"

"Trust me," Jessie said. "I can fix this. Just wear underwear under the dress, no slip. If you start to melt, cruise through the walk-in refrigerator behind the front bar." She helped me change dresses, and then she took off my bracelet and earrings, substituting silver handcuff earrings from her locker. She brushed out my hair and with deft fingers, I had an angel braid secured with a black and silver poufy hair tie. She added a little more eye shadow and changed my berry lipstick for red lip gloss. "Are you ready to go do battle, David? Because Goliath is waiting…"

"I'll give you $100 for a lap dance," an older gentleman offered.

"I'll give you a bloody nose for free," I replied. "We're not a strip joint. Would you like a drink, or shall I get a bouncer?"

"Double scotch, rocks," he drawled, throwing a $50 on the table. "Keep the change."

"I'd rather you didn't give me a raffle ticket as a tip," I try not to blush, but the gentleman at the bar wrote _brunette waitress_ on two raffle tickets.

He winked at me when he put them in the drawing drum for the chance to win a toy bag. "If you win pretty girl, I'd be thrilled to give you a demonstration of how to use everything." He sauntered away.

"Declan!" I say in a low warning voice.

"Relax, we limit the drawing to 500 tickets in the drawing drum and the money raised goes to the Marine Corps Toys for Tots."

"That's…" I start to say.

"$5000 because _Locke and Keyes_ matches the money raised. It's for a good cause." Declan said. "We do it every year. You shouldn't win, because you're not 21. You have the option – if you win and keep the bag, I get to explain everything in it and how it is used. If you win and don't want to keep the bag, we'll draw another winner. Deal?"

"Deal – you'll draw another winner," I walked away with my tray of drinks. He made me change clothes; I'm not in a forgiving mood.

"I'll give you $100 if you let me tie your wrists together before you serve my drink," a cold female voice addressed Sabine.

"Sir would not appreciate my permitting a stranger to bind me," I quietly replied. "What would you like to drink?"

"White wine, Sancerre if you have it," she haughtily replied.

"Anything for your companions," I ignored the mostly bare young man and woman my age who knelt beside the ice queen.

"No, _my submissives_ displeased me with their attitude tonight. You're new around here aren't you? Who did you train with? How long have you been in the lifestyle?" She looked me over from head to toe, especially noting my earrings.

"Sir gave explicit orders all questions be referred to him." I ignored the nosy blonde's questions and returned to the bar.

"What does the peroxide pump want?" Declan asked without much enthusiasm.

"White wine, Sancerre preferably." I shrugged.

"She has good taste in wine," he shrugged and opened one of the top refrigerated units, removing and opening a bottle. He poured a white wine and placed the bottle in a free ice bucket. "Normally, I would tell you to stand across the table from her when you take her order or serve her. Don't give her a chance to grab a sneaky feel. She's pretty trashy about feeling up other people's property without permission." He looked over at the table and his eyes narrowed. "That fucking bitch…take this tray of drinks to that group in the corner. I'll deliver this wine. She moved so you have to lean across her to put the wine on the table. It makes it easier for her to grab you."

"What are you going to do if she grabs you?" I whispered.

'I'm going to break her fucking hand," Declan declared, his normally friendly green eyes taking on Hulk-ish characteristics.

I almost pass out when Declan draws my tip ticket from the drawing drum. "The brunette waitress," he announces.

Suddenly everyone's an expert toy demonstrator and I'm handed a plethora of business cards. I blush pink, pinker, pinkest, slightly red, redder, and _I'm so going to burn in hell_ red. "I don't think I can win," I announce. "I'm not 21 yet." Declan accepts my refusal of the prize. He draws another winner and hands over the bag to cheers of the crowd. I'm glad to turn my back on the mess and pick up glasses. When I approach the bar, Declan turns up the music and comes back to me, extending a hand. He ignores the tray sitting on the bar.

"Dance, brunette waitress," he asks.

I give him a cool look, knowing we're being watched by the crowd. I take his hand and we dance while John Mellencamp's song _Hurts So Good _ plays.

With a girl like you,  
With a girl like you,  
Lord knows there are things we can do, baby,  
Just me and you.  
Come on and make it

Hurt so good.  
Come on baby, make it hurt so good.  
Sometimes love don't feel like it should.  
You make it hurt so good.

Don't have to be so exiting.  
Just tryin' to give myself a little bit of fun, yeah.  
You always look so invitin'  
You ain't as green as you are young  
Hey baby, it's you.  
Come on, girl, now, it's you.  
Sink your teeth right through my bones, baby._  
_Let's see what we can do.  
Come on and make it

Hurt so good.  
Come on baby, make it hurt so good.  
Sometimes love don't feel like it should.  
You make it hurt so good.

I ain't talkin' no big deals  
I ain't made no plans myself.  
I ain't talkin' no high heels  
Maybe we could walk around all day long,  
walk around all day long.

Hurt so good.  
Come on baby, make it hurt so good.  
Sometimes love don't feel like it should.  
You make it hurt so good.

Hurt so good.  
Come on baby, make it hurt so good.  
Sometimes love don't feel like it should.  
You make it hurt so good.

"What's this all about?" I murmur.

"Just establishing some boundaries for you," he murmured back. "This PDO should keep the creepers away for the rest of the night."

"PDO?" I ask. _My inner tramp is entranced by his excellent dancing skills._

"Public Display of Ownership," he chuckled. "There's too many Doms here tonight that are interested in acquiring you as a submissive. Some of them are pimps, like Elena Lincoln. Some of them are trainers, looking for new recruits. Some of them are looking to replace a sub in a poly-relationship."

"Poly-relationship," I ask.

"Threesomes or party groups. I'll finish our dance off with a flourish. After I slap your ass, I'll dump all the business cards on your tray into the trash before I give it back to you." Declan explained.

"You are my rock," I laugh and melt into his arms for the rest of the dance.

When we are done, he strokes his knuckles down my arm, and clasps my hand. He kisses it, releasing me from his grasp. As I turn to clean tables, he swats me on the ass.

"Promises, promises," I call out over my shoulder, to the amused titter of several clients in the lounge. I don't dare turn around and look at him. I'm pretty sure a glare from Declan would cause a thermonuclear detonation in my panties.

"How did you do?" Declan asked at the end of the night.

"I did pretty well in more ways than one. The tips were better than I thought; even after our PDO. And there weren't too many PDFs for my blushing eyes." I shrug.

"PDFs?" Declan frowned.

"Public displays of flesh." I smiled. "Although, I'll be surprised if Ice Bitch's submissives aren't down with pneumonia next week."

"Would you like a glass of white wine? We have an open bottle of Sancerre thanks to her. I recommend it highly." He continued to clean the bar area as I brought more glasses and bottles from tables.

"I like white wine, but I'm not drinking and driving home impaired." I tip my water bottle at him as an explanation.

"Excellent decision making skills," Declan laughed. "But I would be glad to give you a ride home if you were tempted to split the remainder of the bottle with me."

"Thanks; but no. I have to study tomorrow and I need a clear head. If you drove me home, I'd want to show you the renovation at the business and my apartment. Which is about two hours of paint swatches you don't want to see." I tease.

"Will you consider filling in as a bar girl for us in the future - if it meant wearing lingerie?" Declan asked.

"What does a bar girl do?"

"Wear lingerie, sit on the bar, and let people practice tying knots using silk bondage ties on you while you hold their drink. Tips are usually double or triple what you make as a waitress. We have a new member's night coming up very soon and I could use a pretty girl like you at the bar."

"What happened to the last bar girl?" I asked.

"She married Aedan and now works as a waitress in the upstairs lounge." Declan smiled.

"I have three conditions. One: As long as clients, potential clients, professors or classmates don't see me. Two: you have to pick the lingerie in advance and I have to be comfortable wearing it. Three: you have to be my protector when I work as bar girl. I'm renovating the business and my apartment. Extra cash is always handy.

"I can't guarantee one, but two and three are acceptable. You could always wear a mask; which would give you some anonymity. I think the air of mystery created by the mask would increase your tips too. We have to make sure it matches the lingerie and isn't a tacky leather thing. There's one caveat to the job. You have to get bits waxed," he wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

"How much do I have to get waxed?" I glare at him.

"More than a bikini, less than a Brazilian," Declan smirks.

"I'm so not going to ask who inspects the staff after they get their bits waxed." I turn to walk away.

"Hey Declan, come help me close out the second floor," Aedan calls out as Jessie comes down the stairs. Declan disappears up the staircase as Jesse joins me at a table.

"How did you do?" Jessie sat and took off her stilettos. "My feet need a massage."

"I did alright, but it would have killed me to wear stilettos like you did." I laughed. "I'm going home to soak in a hot bubble bath."

"I'm going home and turning on the new multi-jet shower we had installed and letting the jets work out the kinks!" Jessie said. "While the guys finish locking up...Declan wants me to have a talk with you about the club."

_My inner tramp bounces up and down in her seat. _

_My inner Catholic school girl left the building when Declan talked about getting bits waxed_.

I blush another fifty shades of pink and red.

"He said you might have questions about the business since you agreed to waitress for us tonight."

"I learned a little from Google," I stutter, "but I'd rather not discuss it. It's just that…I don't know what questions I should ask."

"You can ask anything," Jessie said. "I promise to always tell you the truth."

"Well, I think that I might understand better if I had some frame of reference," I said slowly.

"Sabine…" she said slowly, "you do know what sex is?"

"I know what sex is," I mutter. "Can this night get any more embarrassing?"

Jesse laughs. "The only way it could be more embarrassing is if you are…" her voice stops. "Oh holy fuck…are you a virgin?"

"I'm not discussing my sex life with you, Jessie!" I yell and go down the hall to the women's locker room. I get my stuff out of a locker. She follows me.

"Look, I know you're on the pill because the pharmacy called your cell phone to remind you it's time to renew. You checked voicemail before you came on duty tonight. I just assumed you were sexually active," Jessie said.

"I'm not sexually active because my mother was a 17-year-old unwed mother who abandoned me with my maternal grandparents before I was a week old. I'm on the pill because I'm pretty much thermonuclear hormonal at that time of month, and the pill calms that down. Look, you guys are clients. I don't ask personal questions about people's kinks. I don't feel it is any of my business. My business is already complicated by people's financial secrets."

"Well, if you are going to fill in for us, you need staff training. Staff training for _Locke and Keyes_ is six hours long which can be broken into two classes."

"What does training involve? " I finish changing into street clothes and grab my stuff. I pull out my car keys, just in case Declan checks up on me.

"Clothes, birth control, physical safety, sexual harassment, an alcohol awareness course, etc. I'll even throw in a BDSM 101 question and answer session. Let me know your schedule on Monday." Jessie said. "Come on, the guys are probably done locking up; let's get out of here."

_My inner Catholic school girl is glad we are through talking about getting bits waxed for the night. She's nagging at me to go to church tomorrow. How does that conversation go in a confessional? Bless me Father for I have sinned…I've been researching a BDSM lifestyle and I've seen more semi-naked bodies this week than a virgin should?_

_My inner tramp is researching Brazilian waxes. UGH._

A/N: Lyrics from _Hurts so Good_, John Mellencamp


End file.
